


[Deadname] Whomst?

by battoff



Series: If I [Come Out], It’s On My Own Terms [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Jake Dillinger, Trans Jeremy Heere, Trans Male Character, also Michael and Christine are only mentioned for like less than a paragraph, jake just loves affection for his friends, the Deere is implied and can be read as them just being really comfortable friends tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 07:22:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12626025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/battoff/pseuds/battoff
Summary: The one where Jake is trans but doesn’t take care of himself so Jeremy takes it upon himself to make sure his friend doesn’t die.





	[Deadname] Whomst?

**Author's Note:**

> So this was written after a sudden burst of inspiration caused by reading [the first trans Jake fic on ao3!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597584) I kinda thought I’d churn one out and be the first but no, someone beat me to it. But I’m glad because now I wrote this ~~admittedly shitty~~ piece. It was written in the middle of the night and I only skimmed it once to add the html so tell me if there’s some mistakes.

Jake rolls his shoulders, the aching pressure on his ribs almost makes him want to leave early but there’s play rehearsal after school today. Christine always gets so disappointed when someone misses play rehearsal. Not angry, not upset, just disappointed. She’s like a parent. It’s only annoying because it works. Everyone always avoids missing out on play rehearsal to appease her. That, and it’s really fun.

Except when your binder is digging into your skin, making it difficult to breathe. Michael elbows him with a concerned look on his face. “You good?”

Another roll for good measure and Jake’s nodding as if nothing’s wrong.

…

Play rehearsal goes a bit awry when it’s time to belch out some lines. Jake’s gotten better, he definitely has, but it requires so much effort and _air_ to change his voice. Air that, frankly, he doesn’t have.

He pauses way too often during line readings that Christine herself tells him to step aside. It hurts—just a bit, just a lot—when even Christine can’t find use for him. He moves to the back of the auditorium, absolutely certain that he’s not going to be called back to the stage so what’s the point in being near it.

He doesn’t know how much time passes but, the next thing he knows Jeremy is shaking him awake. Jeremy is a little too close for comfort, although, Jake doesn’t mind seeing his furrowed brows, chapped lips, and oily face up close. He probably looks just as bad after today. “What’s up homeslice?”

Jeremy doesn’t respond. He bites his lip, eyes fluttering all over Jake’s person. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” comes out so fast it scares Jake a little. He doesn’t take it back. Not when Jeremy takes his hand and leads him to the boys’ changing room backstage. The door is locked behind them, silence intruding on the atmosphere. It takes Jake a minute to notice that Jeremy is talking to him. “Sorry, what?”

He watches Jeremy fidget before standing his ground. “Can you take off your shirt for me?”

Panic sets in Jake’s heart, most likely showing up on his face. That doesn’t stop him from playing it off. “Jeez Jere, not even gonna ask me out to dinner first?” His laugh comes out like a wheeze and, suddenly, Jeremy’s hands are under his shirt, warm, sweaty palms pressed against the jut of his abdomen. He’s insistent, an almost desperate quality about him. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”

Jake’s arms go above his head as he takes his shirt off. He drops it to the ground to avoid eye contact. Despite trying not to, he jumps when Jeremy touches his binder. “How long?” Jeremy peers up at him, moving his head so that he can’t look away. “How long have you been wearing it?”

He takes a deep breath, feels its tinny ring in his chest. “I dunno. Like, ten hours. Almost eleven.”

“Fuck.” The expletive scares Jake. He’s not used to hearing Jeremy swear so profoundly. “Take it off Jake. I’m begging you.” He swallows down the lump in his throat. It’s probably his pride.

“Help me take it off? It’s always hard to get it off after this long. I always get stuck.”

It’s embarrassing to admit. It’s embarrassing to let anyone other than himself be privy to his shortcomings. It’s a relief when Jeremy nods, already folding the bottom of the binder up and over, pulling up until he’s free.

He doesn’t particularly like eye contact but at least right now it means Jeremy isn’t looking. He sits back on the sofa they shoved in here, holding out his arms in an invitation. Jake releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He doesn’t bother putting his shirt back on, his back hurts too much. Making himself at home on Jeremy’s lap is more comfortable than he anticipated considering his legs. But it’s warm and Jeremy has their chests smooshed together which creates relieving pressure.

“Who else knows?”

“Officially? No one. Maybe Chlo. Not sure. Never told her. Never asked her.”

“Okay. I won’t tell anyone. Sorry I kinda made you tell me.” He hums something noncommittal. Forgiveness. “I’m trans, too.”

 _‘It makes sense,’_ he wants to say because it does. It makes sense with how Jeremy just _knew_ what was bothering him. How he knew not to look, how to take the binder off, how to make the ache feel tolerable. Jake just hugs him closer and says, “I’m glad you told me.”


End file.
